


set a different course (and see where it takes us)

by MusicLover500



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, I'm Bad At Titles, Langdon Sibing Relationship, Possessive Tate, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Teen Pregnancy, Title could change, Warnings May Change, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2018-10-05 02:22:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10295384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicLover500/pseuds/MusicLover500
Summary: In this universe, Vivien and Ben get a divorce, sharing custody rights of Violet. It's only Ben and Violet that move into the infamous Murder House this time.Tate still stands by his promise to give Nora a baby, only choosing to seduce.Everything changes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work ever for American Horror Story. But when I got finished with Murder House a couple of weeks ago, I knew I had to write something for this fucked up pairing that has taken my soul. 
> 
> This was inspired by the scene in Afterbirth where Vivien talks about leaving Ben, which made me wonder what if they got divorced shortly after she found out about the affair and shared custody of Violet? Thus this piece of shit. Also, it should be warned that originally Tate is just interested in Violet to fulfill his promise to Nora but that changes.
> 
> I hope you can still enjoy it! I'm looking for a beta if anyone's interested.

Chapter 1:

A knock on the door broke through the sound of Nirvana blaring in her ears. Violet entertained the idea of feigning ignorance and letting her dad - or whoever it was - bang on the door a little longer.

“Violet.” So it was her dad. “We need to talk.”

She let the song finish before pulling the ear buds out and walking to the door. Throwing it open she found her dad had his hand raised to knock again.

“Can you come downstairs?” He asked. “There’s something your mom and I need to tell you.”

“Let’s me guess: you two are getting a divorce,” she replied, crossing her arms. The teen had known this was coming - no matter how hard her parents tried to move past her dad's infidelity, they kept relapsing back into fights and arguments.

Ben Harmon opened his mouth and closed it. Violet knew she was right.

She moved to close the door but the man wedged his foot in between. “We need to talk about custody,” he said quickly.

“Easy. I'm living with mom.”

“Vio-”

The door cut off the rest of her dad's reply.

~

Violet sat in the passenger seat, staring darkly at the passing California landscape. The divorce, custody, everything had been decided a month ago. And unfortunately, because neither parent was willing to give up custody rights, she was being forced to spend the school year with her dad and summers with her mom. Holidays and school breaks would alternate.

As if that wasn't bad enough, her dad bought some house across the country and were moving the two of them there for “a chance to start over”.

She kept her headphones in the entire ride from Boston to LA, turning the music up when her dad tried to speak to her. Eventually the man gave up trying.

They pulled off the highway and drove down a few streets until they pulled up outside a large Victorian-esque house.

A car - presumably belonging to the realtor, who had some things to tell them about their new home- was already parked.

Her dad got out first and immediately went to greet the realtor. Violet followed more slowly, pulling her earbuds out finally and shutting her iPod off.

She took in the house as she walked up the walkway. It was nice - way too nice for her dad to be able to afford it without some severe drawback. That piqued her curiosity, and she hurried to catch up with her dad and the realtor.

Inside was just as fancy looking as the outside, and the teen felt an immediate dislike for it.

“Before I officially put this sold sign out,” the realtor began after shutting the door behind them. “I'm required to give full disclosure of any deaths within the past three years.” She paused to take a deep breath. “The previous owners died in this house - murder suicide, according to the autopsies.”

Violet found herself liking the house suddenly. Her dad had chosen it because it would give the illusion of a semi perfect family - yet the house's history was far from it.

For the first time since they left Boston, she spoke. “I like it.” Not that she had a feeling her opinion held any weight - her dad had already put practically everything into this move, this house, already.

Though he looked wary, he told the realtor they would still take the place.

She helped unpack the car before she went to check out the rooms and find one she liked.

The rest of the house had the same clean, ornate furnishing - except for one room on the third floor.

The walls were a dull green color and the only ornate type of things were the brass bed and the chalkboard on the opposite wall.

Immediately she knew that this was the room she was choosing.

“I found my room,” she announced as she headed back downstairs. She grabbed the first few boxes with her name on it and hauled them upstairs.

~

She should have known her cold shoulder treatment was going to end the first opportunity her dad got. Which, of course, came up over dinner.

Because they hadn’t had a chance to stock the fridge yet, they had ordered pizza. Violet had been hoping she could at least grab her slices before the man broached the subject, but as her hands were reaching for the box, the lid slammed shut.

“I’m not opening this until we talk,” Ben said firmly. “It’s not healthy for you to keep all of this bottled up inside you, Violet.”

Violet let her hand drop. “What is there to talk about? How all of this is _your_ fault because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants?”

The elder Harmon sighed in exasperation. “I made a mistake, Violet, I know. And I’m sorry. But I want to move past that - we have a chance to start over here. The two of us.”

The part of her that was still a little girl that trusted her dad with everything in her being - they used to be so close before shit hit the fan - reared up at that, urging her to accept the olive branch he was offering her. But then she remembered the past few months and shoved that desire far down inside.

“I’m not hungry,” she said, turning to head upstairs.

She couldn’t completely stop the twinge of guilt though.

~

A new family had moved in. A father and daughter, this time. After years, there was finally going to be fresh blood in the house. It made the occupants restless - most of them, anyway. For his part, Tate chose to stay in the dark corner of the basement he’d claimed as “his” over the years.

His only interest in the family would be to fulfill his promise to Nora- otherwise, he found he didn't care much. He gave them a few weeks before they left - no one stayed long lately.

“Spending so much time down here isn't a good thing,” a voice said.

He turned to face Moira. Him and the redhead maid had an...interesting relationship. They both absolutely despised Constance, and that had originally been the basis of their relationship - bonding over mutual hate.

Now, over a decade later, the relationship had evolved to something resembling mother-son. Or so he assumed- he didn't really know what that felt like.

“They're not going to last long,” he replied, shrugging.

“They might,” the older woman countered. “The daughter’s around your age,” she added.

He looked up. “I thought you didn't approve of my promise.”

“I don’t,” Moira told him. “But if you have to do it, better someone closer to your age. You teens are so damn horny consent will be easy.”

Tate thought it over. It did make sense - get close to the girl, seduce her, screw her, then take the baby.

“Ok,” the blonde answered.

He missed the satisfied look on Moira’s face as she turned away.

~

Violet did her best to continue avoiding her dad the rest of the weekend. She succeeded for the most part. Apparently he had gotten the message she still needed space and let her be.

She was currently outside, puffing on a cigarette, lost in her own head when a voice brought her back to reality.

“You’re going to die in there, you know.”

She whirled around to find a girl staring at her. The girl was shorter than her, with dark hair.

“What?” She asked.

The girl opened her mouth but was cut off by another voice.

“Addy? Addy, there you are!”

An older woman came into view - the girl's mother Violet was assuming. Unlike her daughter though she had blonde hair and an accent that sounded southern.

“I put Dora on for you,” she told the girl. She turned to Violet. “I'm sorry, she has a habit of wandering over here. This house has been unoccupied for a few years now.”

“It’s fine,” the teen replied. Creepy first words aside, she doubted the girl posed too much threat.

“I’m Constance Langdon, by the way. This is my daughter Adelaide. We live next door.”

“Violet.”

“Well, Violet, it was nice to meet you. We should let you guys get settled,” Constance said, grabbing Adelaide’s shoulder and turning presumably in the direction of their house.

She sat out there long enough to finish her cigarette and went back inside.

Inside she found her dad standing in the kitchen with a redheaded older woman in a maid uniform.

Her first thought was that this was some weird, kinky thing her dad was into and that he knew no bounds - way too young or way too old, he didn't care.

As if reading her mind the man quickly spoke up.

“Violet, this is Moira. She's going to be helping around the house. Moira, this is my daughter Violet.”

So her dad wasn't screwing her. _Thank god,_ she thought.

The redhead extended her hand. Violet took it. “It’s nice to meet you,” the woman said.

“Likewise,” the girl replied. Turning to her dad, she added, “I'll be upstairs.”

~

It turns out the man was a doctor - some sort of psychiatrist. Perfect. No one would deny Tate needed to talk to someone about his...tendencies. And through the doctor he'd get access to the girl.

Not immediately though. He needed to establish something with the man before he went “poking around”. Though he knew the house inside and out and was already plotting on how to “run into” the girl.

The girl would be at school currently, and he had to feel a stab of sympathy for her. High school sucked - especially Westfield. From what he'd observed of the girl, it wouldn't be easy for her.

He fed the man some bullshit story about preparing for a “noble war” that turned into a slight rant about how much he despised the world. The session ended soon after that, with the doctor barely blinking an eye at the things he said.

Tate let the door closed behind him before he phased into the basement. He figured he'd go through one more session before approaching the girl.

Bored, he decided to search for Moira...only to find her in the process of attempting to seduce Ben Harmon. He'd give the man credit - he was doing a good job of resisting.

The blonde quickly left them to it, and decided to explore the girl's room. On the way though he noticed the adjacent bathroom door was open and the girl was inside.

He decided he could start his plan ahead of schedule - the sooner he got started, the sooner his promise would be fulfilled. As he got closer - still keeping himself invisible - he noticed she dragged something across her wrist. Bright red blood followed, dripping onto the counter.

Well, that was different. She hadn't been in this house long enough for it to start messing with her psyche, meaning she was fully in control of her actions. As far as he knew, she was the first “damaged” person to move in in _years_. He suddenly was more interested in going through with the plan.

“You’re doing it wrong. If you’re trying to kill yourself, cut vertically. They can’t stitch that up,” he said, becoming visible and leaning against the doorway. She spun around, one hand reaching to cover her wrist, a mixture of fear and surprise crossing her face.

“How’d you get in here?” She asked, confused and slightly embarrassed.

He ignored her question, just smirking at her and stepping back, pulling the door with him. “One more thing: if you’re trying to kill yourself, try locking the door next time.”

The door shut.

~

Violet stared at the door for awhile after it shut. Some stranger had spied on her as she cut - and they hadn’t tried to stop her. Instead, they’d actually given her advice - how fucked up was that? Never mind the fact that she had no idea _how_ the boy had gotten into her house. Or what he was doing here in the first place.

She knew it was stupid leaving the door open - normally she made sure it was at least _shut_ while she was doing it - but school had been _hell_. Like she’d anticipated. Of course the queen bitch of the school had zeroed in on her to target as soon as she’d showed up, a cigarette in her mouth.

Her only thought when she had gotten home was to find some relief - something she’d been doing more often after her dad’s infidelity was revealed - and that single-minded thought had led to her getting caught.

The teen wouldn’t lie - the strange boy piqued her curiosity. Most people, upon seeing another human being self-mutilating, would try to _stop_ the person - not stand by, much less tell them _how_ to do it.

It seems there might still be some things to spark her interest after all these months.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet and Tate officially meet. Tate finds out part of the reason Moira's going along with his plan to give Nora a baby for once - sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added the "Underage" warning because I was doing some research and found out that the age of consent in California is 18 - and neither Tate nor Violet are 18. Tate's 17, and I know on the Wikia it says Violet is 15 but for the sake of this story she's 16. And a huge thank you to everyone who's left kudos or bookmarked this story - it honestly means the world to me that people actually like this piece of shit! I hope this chapter won't disappoint.

Chapter 2:

 

Tate knew he’d gotten the girl’s attention. He’d found her sometimes glancing down at her wrist where the healing cut was with a thoughtful expression on her face. She hadn’t done it again since the time he’d caught her. 

 

He waited a few days before approaching her again. As she was walking up the steps after school one day, he stepped out from behind the tree. The other teen jumped, startled, before recognizing him. 

 

“Oh, it’s you,” she said. “What are you doing here?” 

 

“You know some would consider that rude,” he replied. She shrugged.

 

“ _ You’re  _ the one who showed up inside my house randomly.” 

 

He couldn’t help but let a small genuine smile cross his face. “I live around here.” 

 

Which was true - sort of. He didn’t technically  _ live  _ anywhere, being dead and all, but he was stuck inside this damn house for the rest of eternity. Not that he was going to tell her that - he had a plan to put into action, after all. 

 

She seemed to accept that as an answer. As if sensing she might be out here a while, she pulled a cigarette out of her coat pocket and a lighter, lighting up the cancer stick with the ease of someone who had been doing it for awhile. The teen glanced sideways at him.

 

“What, no comment on this being a bad habit?” She asked as she exhaled. 

 

“I’ve done worse,” he told her. Also true. “Mind if I have one?” 

 

She stared at him for a few seconds before pulling another one out of her pocket and handing it to him. He grabbed the lighter from her and lit it, feeling the familiar burn of the smoke entering his throat. He hadn’t smoked since a few weeks before his death. The blonde had been planning on getting some more, but hadn’t gotten the chance. It felt good to light up again. 

 

He opened the eyes he hadn’t even realized he’d closed to find her looking at him. Up close he realized her eyes were a lighter shade of brown than his. 

 

“I’m Tate,” he said. 

 

“Violet,” she answered. 

 

They sat there for awhile, smoking in silence, when a car suddenly slowed outside the house and began pulling into the driveway. Violet’s eyes widened.

 

“Shit,” she said, yanking the cigarette from her mouth and throwing it onto the concrete, viciously stomping it out. “I forgot my dad said he was running to the store this afternoon.” 

 

The door was beginning to open, and while Violet was intent on hiding signs of her illegal habits, Tate took that as his cue to vanish back into the basement. 

 

He still had the cigarette in his mouth, he found out. Moira, who was down there doing laundry, glanced at him and simply wrinkled her nose. 

 

“I never understood that habit,” the redhead commented. “I assume you got it from Violet?” 

 

The blonde nodded, exhaling. “She’s an...interesting girl,” he said. 

 

“Do me a favor and don’t breathe that over here,” Moira advised him. “It’s not easy getting the smell of smoke out of clothes, you know. And I just washed these.” 

 

The blonde held his hands up in surrender and went off to the opposite side of the basement to finish the cigarette. 

 

~

 

Violet turned around from where she had just put out the remainder of her cigarette to tell Tate it’d probably be a good idea to leave, only to find he was already gone. She blinked, wondering how she missed that - surely she should have heard  _ something  _ for him to have disappeared that quickly - but the arrival of her dad tore her thoughts away from the blonde teen. 

 

“I thought you’d be upstairs working on your homework by now,” the older man commented, hands full of groceries. “Mind helping me with these?” 

 

She helped carry the remaining groceries inside and put them away. The elder Harmon had gotten various things - enough that they wouldn’t have to go out for a couple weeks at least. She knew what he was going to ask next - when she was younger, she used to help him and her mom make dinner - and quickly told him she would be working on homework upstairs. 

 

The teen did  _ some _ homework, but she decided to put some off for another day. In the grand scheme of things, homework didn’t count for much anyway - one thing that stayed the same across the country, it seemed.

 

Instead she browsed the internet, looking for more music to download. Her iPod was currently softly blaring some The Smiths, and she was looking for some more songs she may have missed from various ‘80s-‘90s rock bands. Not that she had a feeling she’d find any - she had most likely already downloaded all of them. 

 

A sharp knock broke through the music, followed by her dad’s voice. “Dinner’s ready.” 

 

Her stomach growled at that, causing her to realize how hungry she really was. She shut the music off and went downstairs, finding her dad had made spaghetti. Unlike before, he didn’t try to stop her from grabbing a plate, but he did call after her when she tried to head upstairs. 

 

“Eat with me,” he said. “Please,” he added - no, pleaded. 

 

When he realized she didn’t immediately storm up to her room, he pushed on. “We don’t have to talk. We can just eat.” 

 

An internal war waged within her. She did miss their closeness, and it gave her no small amount of satisfaction to see him practically  _ begging _ her to simply spend time with him, but she didn’t want him to think she was beginning to forgive him for everything. Because she wasn’t. She didn’t know if she ever would. 

 

But...he was giving her such a pleading expression she felt her resolve crumbling.  _ One dinner won’t hurt _ , she told herself. 

 

She turned and followed him into the dining room. 

 

True to his word, the man didn’t try to engage in conversation throughout the dinner. The silence got awkward after a while, but neither broke it - even though the dark blonde could tell he  _ really  _ wanted to.

 

The silence continued as they washed the dishes and put the leftovers in the fridge. She quickly retreated to her room after that. 

 

Immediately she went over to the speaker that connected her iPod, intent on listening to some more before she went to bed - only to pause when the screen lit up. 

 

Violet knew for a fact she had been listening to The Smiths just an hour ago, and yet the screen proudly displayed Nirvana. She was pretty sure she hadn’t gone through  _ all _ of the Smiths songs she had on that thing before she’d left. 

 

_ Maybe you just hit shuffle on accident,  _ she told herself, removing the device and plugging her earbuds in. She hit play, and let the familiar voices fill her ears as she pulled out a book - she did enjoy a good book every once in while, and she had been doing it a bit more ever since the fights had started. Not that she was going to hear the raised voices, shouting, or even objects being thrown again anytime soon. 

 

She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone - or something - was watching her as she laid there, though. 

 

~

 

It seemed the more he learned about Violet, the more interesting she became. When she had left to go downstairs, Tate had been unable to help himself and scrolled through the device she used to play her music. It was times like this that he realized technology had come a  _ long  _ way from what he remembered. Not that he would know, being stuck in this house day after day, year after year. 

 

His brows raised as he scrolled through the various bands she had. She had a great taste in music, he’d give her that. Some of his favorite bands were on here, including some he’d never heard of. 

 

He clicked on Nirvana and let it play, suddenly being taken back almost two decades ago when this used to be  _ his  _ room. The blonde had a habit of blaring Nirvana as loud as he could, mainly just to piss Constance off. She  _ despised  _ that type of music, and it just made him love it more. 

 

Adelaide used to come in here, sometimes, drawn by the music and the desire to get away from Constance - to be with someone who genuinely cared about her, not just put on a face while hiding disappointment. 

 

Say what you will about him, but Tate had always cared about his siblings. He knew where Beau was - here, in this house, like him, away from the crazy bitch for good - but he wondered about Adelaide. He saw her, sometimes, sneaking into the house when it was vacant, rolling the ball with Beau in the basement.

 

Not that he ever showed himself. He couldn’t bring himself to, not when they were so...innocent, in everything. 

 

Tate was pulled back to the present by sensing someone coming upstairs. Violet must be coming back. He shut off the music and placed it where he’d found it, vanishing when she opened the door. He lingered, though, invisible.  

 

Immediately the darker blonde went for the music, frowning slightly when she turned it on and found Nirvana on it. But she must have found a reasonable explanation for it, because she simply plugged headphones in and settled onto her bed, grabbing a book off of the side table. 

 

So she was a reader of sorts. The teen had never been one for reading; it had probably been one of his least favorite things to do in school, if he was being honest. He wouldn’t have pegged her for one, either, but she was capable of surprising him, he was quickly discovering. 

 

~

 

At his next session with Dr. Harmon, the man asked if he had been taking the meds he gave him. Of course he hadn’t - they don’t do shit for someone who’s already dead - but when pressed for an explanation, he told the man it was because he was worried his dick wouldn’t work right anymore, because he’d “met someone”. 

 

And he had. Not that he was expecting to suddenly fall in love with Violet or anything - she was interesting, yes, but he’d never had a crush on anyone when he was alive and he doubted being dead would magically change that - as the most important thing currently was giving Nora the baby she so desperately craved. Maybe then the woman will stop being so sad all the time.

 

To be honest, he didn’t remember much about the ending of that session. Because he became aware that someone was spying on it - a person he  _ knew _ was Violet. Sure enough, when he glanced in the direction he could feel the eyes, he saw her peeking around the corner at him. Their eyes met. 

 

~

 

She had simply been walking up to her room when she heard her dad speaking to someone in what was now his office (really the living room). A familiar voice answered, and she realized the person her dad was talking to was Tate. 

 

Unable to hide her curiosity, she crept closer, peeking around the corner to see she had a perfect view of the other teen. She stood there, and eventually the blonde became aware she was there because his eyes suddenly lifted to meet hers. 

 

Violet waited until the session ended to corner Tate as he was going to leave. 

 

She grabbed his arm as he passed by and tugged him in the direction of the stairs. Receiving the message, he followed her upstairs to her room.

 

This was extremely unorthodox, she knew, bringing a boy she barely knew to her room. But she couldn’t think of another way to talk to him without her dad noticing. 

 

As soon as the other teen cleared the threshold, she shut the door. 

 

“I couldn't think of another way to talk to you,” she admitted. 

 

A brow raised in amusement. “ So you're solution is to drag me upstairs into your room?”

 

“I don’t think my dad would be happy about me hanging out with one of his patients,” she replied. “Why didn't you stop me?” 

 

They both knew what she was referring to. She’d wanted to know why he didn't react the way typical, normal people did. 

 

“I did it,” he answered. “It'd be a little hypocritical of me to try and stop you.” 

 

“Did?”

 

He nodded. “I stopped a few years ago, though.” The blonde sat down on the floor and raised the sleeve of his sweater. “I'll show you.” 

 

She took a seat opposite him, and they ended up comparing scars. 

 

“I did this when my dad left. I was ten, I think?”

 

“Last week. I started my new school...sucks”  _ Which you already knew _ , she added silently. 

 

“Westfield, right? The worst. I got thrown out of there.” He said.

 

“I hate it!” She exclaimed, unable to stop the joy at finding someone she can rant about the hell hole known as Westfield High to from filling her. “I hate everyone. All there bourgeoisie designer bullshit. East Coast was much cooler. I mean, at least we had weather.” 

 

“Why did you move here?” Tate asked. 

 

“My dad had an affair,” Violet admitted, not entirely sure why she was spilling her secrets to a virtual stranger. Though something told her it wouldn't be hard to be friends with Tate. “My mom caught him in the act, literally. They tried to make it work afterwards but that went as well as you would expect. Eventually they decided to get a divorce and split custody of me. Causing me to move across the country because my dad won rights to the school year.” 

 

As she was speaking, Tate got up and wrote something on the chalkboard. ‘TAINT’. 

 

Turning back, he said, “That's horrible. If you love someone you should never hurt them.”

 

“Tell that to my dad,” she told him bitterly. “And that’s not even the worst part! My mom had a brutal miscarriage a few months before that. We had a funeral and everything. I mean, have you ever seen a baby casket?!”

 

At some point during her ranting Tate had resumed his seat opposite her and reached for her hand. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and something in his eyes told her he knew about losing a sibling - even if the baby hadn’t ever been born. 

 

She quickly realized it was time to change the subject. “Why are you seeing my dad?”

 

“You already know the answer,” the blonde replied. 

 

Violet had a feeling, but she didn’t know if it was right or not. She could tell he wasn’t going to talk more about matter. She got up and grabbed her iPod, holding it up for him to see. 

 

“Want to listen to some Morrissey? He’s cool and he’s pissy and he hates everyone and everything,” she asked, smiling. 

 

“Got any Kurt Cobain on that thing?” 

 

Before she could reply, a familiar shape filled the doorway of her room. 

 

“What are you doing in here?” 

 

“We were just listening to music, dad,” Violet said.

 

The older man turned to Tate. “You need to leave Tate.” He turned back to Violet. “I'm sorry. He shouldn't be in here, and I think you know that...please.” The last part was directed at Tate again. 

 

“Dad, nothing- !” She began protesting, feeling a flash of anger towards the elder Harmon. Yes, Tate was one of his patients, but he was the only one she’d met so far that seemed like he could be a friend. 

 

As Tate got up to leave he said something indistinguishable to Ben. Whatever it was, it made the man fix his daughter with a strong look.

 

“Stay away from him,” he demanded. She opened her mouth but he cut her off. “You heard me!” 

 

With that he turned and left the room. As she glared at the door she realized this was the first time she had called him “dad” in months. And he had to go and ruin it - again. 

 

~ 

 

She winced as the cut on her forehead gave another twinge. Leah had some nasty claws on her, she’ll give the other girl that. Something told her she had been in fights before - not that it surprised her, given how much of a  _ bitch _ she was. 

 

Thankfully, no one had been in the house when she got home, and she was able to avoid answering any questions about the cut on her forehead.She had quickly cleaned and disinfected the cut, heading back into her room - only to find a familiar face already in the room. 

 

“How do you keep getting in here?!” She’d demanded, staring at Tate. 

 

“What happened to your face?” He’d asked, and she found herself telling him everything about the situation with Leah. 

 

“I hate her!” She spat at the end, pacing. Tate had made himself comfortable in her desk chair during the story. “I just want to kill her!”

 

“Then do it! One less high school bitch making the lives of the less fortunate more tolerable is, in my opinion, a public service,” he said. She gave him a ‘don’t-be-ridiculous’ look - she couldn’t just kill the girl, no matter how much she wanted to. “Look, you want her to leave you alone? Stop making your life a living hell? Short of killing her, there's only one solution. Scare her. Make her afraid of you. It's the only thing bullies react to,” the blonde told her.

 

“How?” She asked, pausing to face him.  

 

He gave her a grin. “It’s simple.” And he launched into a plan. 

 

It sounded great but… “She’s a cokehead. I don’t  _ have  _ coke.”

 

“You don’t need any. You just need to get her here - she’ll leave empty-handed and terrified. And I can guarantee she’ll never bother you again.” 

 

“How am I going to do that? Tell her that the previous owners died down there?” 

 

His grin turned malicious. “Leave it to me.” 

 

~

 

It was ungodly easy to get Thaddeseus in on the plan - the Infantana hadn’t had a chance to terrify someone in a  _ long  _ awhile. All he had to do was wait for Violet to bring the girl down here. 

 

He took up a spot in the tiny sideroom sitting the rocker, waiting. He was eager for a chance to get revenge on some more ‘I’m-popular-and-therefor-better-than-you’ bitches - and from Violet’s stories, this Leah girl  _ definitely _ was one of them. 

 

It was shaping up that his plan could actually be  _ fun _ . The blonde had thought that he’d have to grit and suffer through  _ acting _ like he gave a shit about the girl in order to seduce her, but Violet was turning out to be far more than he was expecting. She wasn’t like normal teenage girls. It was...refreshing. 

 

He heard the basement door open, followed by Violet and another girl’s voices. 

 

“I want my goddamn drugs.”

 

“Then keep going.” 

 

Violet switched the light on, lighting the small room up with yellow light. 

 

“So this is the coke whore,” he said conversationally. 

 

The girl, Leah, frowned in confusion. “Who are you?”

 

He ignored her. “Get the lights,” he told Violet. She gave him a tiny smirk before turning the lights off. He could tell Thaddeseus was itching to be let loose. 

 

Focusing, he was able to make the lights start flickering. For added effect he started laughing like a complete lunatic (which some might say he was, he briefly thought) before launching himself on top of the bitch. 

 

“Get off of me! Get off of me!” The girl shrieked, but Tate wasn’t on her anymore. The Infantata had taken his place. He moved behind Violet to gauge her reaction - only for her to start screaming suddenly. 

 

“Stop it! Stop it!” She yelled as the Infantata scratched Leah’s face. Reaching behind him, she immediately threw the lights on. He had just enough time to appear back in the rocking chair, looking to both of the girls like he’d been there the entire time. 

 

With a fearful look in his direction, Leah ran as fast as she could out of the room and up the stairs, one hand covering her bleeding cheek. 

 

Violet began to run after her, but the other girl was too fast. 

“I don’t think she’ll be bothering you anymore,” he said with satisfaction, coming up behind her. 

 

The other teen whirled around on him. “What was that?!”

 

So she saw Thaddeseus. Interesting. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied easily. “She kneed me in the balls and got away. She must have ran into something.” 

 

“I saw something!” Violet insisted. 

 

“It was nothing; you’re talking crazy. Look, we showed the bitch!” He attempted to move closer, only for her to suddenly shove him back, hard. 

 

“Get out!” She screeched at him, a hint of fear along with confusion in her voice. “I never want to see you again.” With that, she turned and ran up the stairs, leaving him standing alone in the basement. 

 

“I thought you weren’t afraid of anything!” He yelled after her. 

 

“Give her time,” Moira said suddenly behind him. He had no idea the redhead had come down here - he thought she’d still be upstairs seeing how long it took to seduce Ben Harmon. Which she had apparently made her goal. 

 

“She said -” he began. 

 

“Don’t give me that,” the older woman cut him off. “We both know you’re the only thing she has here even remotely resembling a friend. She’ll come back - eventually.”

 

“That doesn’t mean anything about me still being able to go through with the plan.” 

 

“Then you give her as much time as she needs. Who knows, maybe you might find you  _ enjoy  _ her company.”

 

The implications in the maid’s voice registered in his mind. “Are you trying to set me up with her?!” 

  
She didn’t respond, instead choosing to disappear. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Tate & Moira interaction, plus bonding between Violet & Adelaide and Violet & Leah. More Tate x Violet interaction next chapter.

Chapter 3: 

Whatever it was that happened in the basement… it did get Leah to leave her alone. Word must have spread, because no one bothered her anymore. _One good thing came out of it,_ Violet supposed.

She hadn’t seen Tate since that afternoon, either. She didn’t realize until now how quickly she had become attached the blonde. At school, there was no one who wanted to talk to her. Tate had been the only one to actually _want_ to hold a conversation with her.

_Stop it,_ she told herself as she arrived home after another mind-numbing day at school. _He did something to Leah - if not, then he lied about it. You definitely_ saw _something in that basement._

She still walked on eggshells around her dad. He was making more attempts to talk to her, coming up with more creative ways to ambush her.

Violet knew she couldn’t avoid him forever. Thankfully, he was with a patient when she got home, meaning she was able to quickly dash upstairs and hole up in her room. She decided homework could wait, and flopped onto her bed, turning her iPod on, content to doze off for awhile.

Eventually that got boring, though, and the teen realized she was craving another cigarette. Shutting the music off, she got up and quietly went downstairs, out the backdoor and to her usual spot, out of view from the windows.

She was smoking away, lost in her own thoughts, when she spotted a car stop outside the house. On the side was some sort of logo, and one of the people was standing up with a microphone like some sort of tour guide.

Curiosity got the best of her, and she moved closer. The words on the side of the car read “Murder Tour”.

_The fuck?_ She thought, cigarette falling from her mouth and onto the ground. Violet quickly stomped it out, glancing up in time to see the car pull away.

Apparently the house had a much more interesting history than she’d originally thought.

~

Tate couldn’t help but have a little fun with Dr. Harmon the next time he saw him. Specifically, bringing Violet up.

“Do you think about sex a lot?” The older man asked.

“I think about one girl in particular. Your daughter,” he replied, watching the slight twitch of a muscle in the psychiatrist’s face. “I jerk off thinking about her. A lot.”

He didn’t, but it was worth seeing the expression on the man’s face.

“I’m not comfortable with you talking about my daughter, Tate,” Dr. Harmon told him.

But he was having so much _fun_. “Don’t you want to know what I do to her? How I lay her lay her on the bed and caress her soft skin, making her purr like a little kitten…”

“Do you turn to these thoughts to comfort yourself in times of stress?” The man gave little away about how he was truly feeling, appearing to the entire world like a man in perfect control. But the blonde could see the cracks.

“Violet told me about the girl in Boston, you know,” he said, changing the subject. “Not much older than her.”

That was all he had to say to make the man snap. “Our session is over,” he said sharply, standing up.

He entertained the idea of continuing to play with the doctor, but decided not to press his luck. He still needed him to get access to Violet - when she decided to seek him out again. Moria’s words rang in his ears, _“You knows, you might even_ enjoy _her company”_.

_Not likely,_ he thought. He never had that feeling around girls when he was still alive. _But Violet also isn’t like them,_ a tiny voice whispered in the back of his mind.

Tate shook his head and headed out the front door to give the appearance of him “leaving”. As he did, he spotted a familiar figure coming out of the house next door. Constance. Before she could spot him, he quickly phased to a random room in the house. He would be perfectly fine with avoiding the woman for the rest of eternity if he was able to.

~

Because she was starting to get low on her cigarettes, Violet headed back inside after making sure she had put the one out. That had been a particularly good one, too. Oh well.

Inside, she changed her shirt to hide the smell of smoke and came downstairs to find her dad talking downstairs. The sound of Constance’s drawl reached her ears, and sure enough, the blonde woman was standing in the doorway.

Realizing she was there, her dad turned and gestured her to join him. “Violet, this is our neighbor.”

“I know,” she replied, coming up beside him.

“I should also warn you my daughter, Adelaide, has a habit of wandering over here. I keep telling her she can’t anymore, but she still does. If you happen to see her in the house, just tell her to leave,” the woman said.

“Mrs. Langdon,” the elder Harmon said. “There’s something I need to talk to you about…”

Sensing that as her cue to leave, Violet quickly retreated upstairs. A few hours went by before the teen decided she was hungry enough to venture downstairs and risk getting ambushed by her dad.

As she was turning to head upstairs, she heard a faint noise coming from the basement. She stopped in her tracks, listening. She heard it again.

The girl set her food on the table and went back into the kitchen, grabbing a knife as a precaution, and went to investigate.

The brief glimpse of the...thing...she’s seen flashed through her mind as she descended the steps, and her hand gripped the knife a little tighter. Reaching the bottom, she flicked the lights on.

And damn near had a heart attack.

“Jesus Christ Addy!” She swore, dropping the knife in favor of putting a hand over her heart. “How did you get in here?!”

The girl pointed to the other side of the basement, where the door leading outside was. Both of the Harmons forgot it was there most of the time. That explained a lot, actually.

Violet’s heart calmed down as she stood there. “Could you at least use the front door next time?”

The dark haired girl nodded. The teen took a good look at the younger girl, and came to the conclusion that part of the reason she kept sneaking over to the house was because she was lonely. Something Violet understood well.

“You’ve lived here all your life, right?” She asked. At Adelaide’s nod, she felt a small smile cross her face. “Would you mind telling me what you know about this place?” The tour car with the words “Murder Tour” on the side flashed through her mind.

The girl smiled and gestured for Violet to sit across from her. The teen complied.

Adelaide didn’t know _everything_ about the house’s history, but she did know a lot more than Violet did. She mostly told the dark blonde about how almost all of the previous owners of the house have died in the house, or had someone in their family die in the house. At the last part, the girl went quiet, and Violet knew there was something there but she wasn’t going to press for details.

“Violet?” Her dad’s voice called, making both of the girls jump.

“You should go,” she said quickly to Adelaide. “Just let me know next time you decide to come over, ok?”

The girl nodded and quickly headed for the door while the teen ascended the steps to the main floor.

“There you are!” Her dad said, a hint of relief in his voice. “I was looking for you. Where were you?”

“The basement. I thought I’d heard something,” she replied, noticing her food was still sitting on the table. She quickly grabbed it and turned to the stairs.

“Wait,” the older Harmon called. She paused. “I’m going to have to go out of town for a bit. An old client of mine that I treated two summers ago tried to commit suicide. She’s in the hospital and won’t talk to anyone. Her parents are begging me to go out there, see if I can get through to her.”

Violet had a feeling the story was bullshit, but the other alternative - that he was going to visit another former client of his - she wasn’t going to even consider. Not if she wanted to eventually forgive him and move on. So she nodded.

~

He couldn’t help but watch, invisible, as Adelaide and Beau played down in the basement. It was something that was leftover from when he’d still been alive; Adelaide may technically be older than him by a couple of years, but he had always been the one to look out for her and Beau because Constance rarely bothered.

So Tate kept an eye on them. Not all the time, but he still checked in on them. Even if they couldn’t see him.

The basement door opened, and Violet appeared, a knife gripped in her hand. She must have been passing by while Beau shifted and been drawn by the noise. She flicked the light on and jumped, the knife clattering to the floor when she spotted Adelaide.

The blonde watched their interaction, half expecting Violet to react the way most people would to Adelaide sneaking into their house. But he should have learned by now not to underestimate her.

Instead of demanding she get out, the dark blonde asked the darker haired girl to tell her what she knew about the house, listening intently to the story. When Dr. Harmon called for the teen, she stood up, simply telling Adelaide to let her know next time she decided to come over.

Adelaide got up and left through the side door, leaving Tate and Beau alone in the basement. Sensing Adelaide wasn’t going to be back for awhile, Beau grabbed his ball from where Adelaide had rolled it before Violet had interrupted and vanished back up to the attic.

Tate decided to see what Moira was up to - she was probably cleaning the house, like she usually did. Unless she was continuing to have fun with Ben Harmon. He had asked her once why she continued to clean, even when no one lived in the house. The redhead had simply told him that it was a habit, a way of keeping sane through the years.

“Now, do me a favor and help me with this dusting. You’re taller than I am, you can reach higher than I can,” she had said, and he helped her clean the higher places in the house that day. He came back and helped her on occasion - he knew he wouldn’t do it as a way to stave off boredom, but there was some odd peace to be found in the simple motion of cleaning. Not that he would ever admit that. He had a reputation to maintain in the house, after all.

That had been the start of the shift between him and the older woman’s relationship. From friendly acquaintances to whatever it was they had now.

Sure enough, he found her in one of the unused bedrooms, going through her usual cleaning routine.

He couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment he stopped seeing her younger self and saw her as she was - probably around the time their relationship shifted. The blonde had planned on standing there, seeing how long it took her to realize he was there, but one of the downsides of spending an eternity with a person is that you are eventually able to easily pick up on their presence.

“Let me guess: she’s still not talking to you,” Moira said. “Or have you not even attempted to approach her?”

He stayed silent, which was an answer enough for the older woman.

“You might want to try that,” she told him. “Do you mind helping me get this light?”

The blonde helped her, the two working in silence before he decided to broach the subject of her advances on the eldest Harmon.

“How are your attempts at seducing the doctor going?”

“For someone who has a history of cheating, he seems to be very stubborn about giving into his desire. Even though he isn’t married anymore,” she replied. “He’s apparently trying to make things up with Violet - not that it’s going well, as I’m sure you know.”

“She’s pissed, that much is obvious. Then again, who wouldn’t be pissed at discovering their dad’s an asshole?” The last part came out a bit more bitter than he’d intended.

Moira paused in her cleaning to look at him. “Have you seen him?”

They both knew who she was talking about.

He shook his head. “I don’t plan to,” he answered.

When he had asked her _why_ she had such an intense hatred for Constance, she told him the entire story. How Constance and his dad had hired her when they lived in the house originally, how his dad had come onto her despite her protests, how Constance had caught them and, in a fit of rage, killed both of them.

Tate had grown up believing Constance’s lie that Hugo Langdon had left shortly after Beau had been born, and because he had very few memories of the man he’d created his own version of the man in his head. That version was _far_ from the truth, he’d learned. Now, whenever he happened to see the man - when he chose to appear, that is - he quickly went in the other direction. So far, he’d avoided having to confront the man that was his father about what had led to his death. And he was intending on keeping it that way for as long as possible.

As if sensing a change of subject was needed, Moira suddenly said, “Dr. Harmon’s going away for a few days - something in Boston. You should approach her then.”

~

Violet wasn’t sure what made her seek out Leah during study hall that day. Maybe it was to confirm with the girl that what she’d seen had been there. Maybe she wanted an explanation as to why Leah had targeted her so ruthlessly - not that she expected an answer. There never was one.

“I thought you hated smoking,” she said, coming to sit beside the girl. Leah looked completely different than the girl she had met that first day. A giant floppy hat was covering her head, and sunglasses helped conceal her face further.

“I’ve taken it up,” the other teen said, exhaling. “I can’t sleep,” she said suddenly. “I’m terrified of everything. That thing that attacked me? It wasn’t human.”

So there _was_ something in the basement. Still, she knew she couldn’t very well tell Leah that - it was obvious the girl was terrified enough. Violet got a small amount of satisfaction from that, if she was being honest. “It was Tate,” she replied.

“No!” The girl protested. “You saw that thing too.”

Sensing that she wasn’t going to change Leah’s mind, she decided to change the subject. “What did you tell your parents?”

The teen snorted. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell them anything. I told them I got attacked by a Chola on Melrose who wanted my Chanel. Couldn’t tell them I went to your house to score coke, could I?”

As Leah glanced sideways at her, she saw the bandage on the girl's cheek.

“How deep are the cuts?”

The girl inhaled and slowly exhaled. “Deep.”

The two sat in silence, Leah puffing on her cigarette. “Damn it,” she swore when she got to the butt.

Not entirely sure what possessed her, she offered one of her own. Leah eyed her warily.

“Why?”

Violet shrugged. “Something tells me you learned your lesson."

  
The teen let out a dry laugh as she accepted the offered stick. “Understatement of the century.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet learns Addy and Tate are siblings, her and Tate reconnect, and the Murder House receives some unwanted fanatic visitors...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! I was originally trying to only publish the next chapter after getting a chapter ahead, but I wound up getting stuck on Chapter 5 so I decided since it could still be awhile before I finish it I would go ahead and upload the finished Chapter 4 for you. If you're still sticking with this story, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4:

A couple days after his conversation with Moira, Dr. Harmon left for his mini trip to Boston. Tate was already planning how to approach Violet without making it seem like he was stalking her.

He felt terrible for using Addy for it, but it was the only plan he had. After tonight he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide himself from his siblings.

That afternoon, Addy knocked on the front door. After a few minutes, Violet opened it. The blonde couldn’t hear what they said, but he knew where Addy was going, and he had a feeling Violet would follow her. 

Sure enough the two came down to the basement. Though it was completely unnecessary, he opened the spare door and entered the basement, listening to it squeak closed. 

Violet jumped at the noise and looked about ready to grab Addy’s hand and bolt for the safety of the main floor, probably remembering her brief encounter with the Infantata. 

Addy, on the other hand, recognized him immediately. Before he was aware of it, she had bridged the distance and wrapped her arms around his torso. 

“I knew you'd show up eventually,” she said. 

He was unable to stop himself from returning her hug. 

From the other side of the room he heard Violet quietly mutter “What the fuck?”

Right. He'd never told her his last name. He detangled himself from his sister, and was opening his mouth to explain when Addy beat him to it. 

“This is my brother, Tate.” 

The teen stood there, mind processing the information. “That explains so much,” she finally said. 

Once again Tate’s response was cut off by someone else. Only this voice made his teeth clench and hands ball into fists. 

“Addy? Leave those poor neighbors alone and come eat. There's someone I want you to meet.” 

Constance’s voice always did manage to carry, he thought as him and Addy shared an identical look. They both knew what the woman meant: she’d found someone willing to be her boy toy for the time being. 

Reluctantly, Addy stepped away from him. She glanced at Violet who gave her a sympathetic look. With one last glance at Tate, she left through the side door. 

The blonde had a moment of deja vu to a few days ago, when he stood practically alone in this basement. Only this time it was Violet with him. The two stood there in silence for a few minutes. 

“You didn’t mention you had siblings.” 

He shrugged. “It never came up,” he replied. Silence fell again. Tate was waiting to see what she would do, if she would demand he get out, telling him she’d told him she didn’t want to see him ever again and that she had meant it. 

He could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she weighed whether to tell him to never come back, or to let him back into her life. Like he was hoping, the latter one out. 

“My dad’s not home - some sort of emergency in Boston,” the dark blonde said. “We can hang out - without an interruption this time.” 

Like that, he knew she had put the basement incident behind them. She may not trust him or have forgiven him, but it was a start. 

~

Violet knew she probably shouldn’t let Tate back into her life - he’d clearly lied about what happened in the basement - but her desire to have at least one friend who understood her won out against all reason. 

So she extended an olive branch, which the other teen had eagerly accepted. 

The pair were now holed up in her room, music blaring, just sitting on the floor. 

“Wanna play?” Tate said suddenly, pulling up a deck of cards he had found while he had rummaged through her desk. 

“You don’t strike me as the card playing type,” she responded as the blonde took a seat across from her and started dealing out the cards. 

“I guess I’m just full of surprises,” he quipped. “Alright, you draw.” 

The teen lost count of how long they spent up there, talking as they played different card games. She was still impressed that the blonde knew how to play card games - he just didn’t give off the vibe of someone who would know how to use a deck of cards. 

As they talked, she discovered there was quite a lot her and Tate shared in common besides their taste in music. They both had a parent they couldn’t stand, both had lost a sibling (even if hers hadn’t technically ever been born), both absolutely despised high school, both loved fall, both had an attraction to the darker aspects of life… Violet would honestly have spent the entire night discussing those things with Tate if she hadn’t found herself struggling to keep her eyes open. 

“I think we should call it a night,” the other teen said, obviously noting how she was fighting to stay awake. She made a noise of protest. “Violet, it’s 2 in the morning.” 

She craned her head to look at the clock on her night stand where, sure enough, the time - 2:05 - was displayed in neon red digits. “How long were we up here?”

Tate shrugged. “Hours, apparently.” 

In her tiredness, she vaguely recalled wishing him a good night, and telling him she “hoped that bitch didn’t kill him” for coming home so late. For some reason he chuckled at that. 

“‘Night, Violet,” he said as he got up and walked to the door, shutting it behind him as he left. 

Alone, the dark blonde realized just how tired she really was, and decided to skip changing into pajamas in favor of just getting sleep as soon as possible. She didn’t even crawl under the covers as she laid down on her bed, out practically the moment her head hit the pillow. 

~

“I told you,” Moira said when he had closed the door to Violet’s room. 

“You did,” Tate reluctantly admitted. 

The past however many hours had been the most normal fun he’d had in awhile. He could almost have imagined it was the ‘90’s again, and he was sitting in a friend’s room until the early hours of the morning, avoiding going home to Constance. Not that he had really had friends, that is. 

Is that what we are? He thought, glancing back at the closed door. It was strange - he had been planning on just seducing and screwing her, not liking her in any way, shape, or form. At least I won’t have to entirely fake things when the time comes, he told himself. 

In fact, if she also saw him as a friend - which he had a feeling she did, because he knew for a fact she was a loner at school - his plan might come into fruition a lot quicker than he’d anticipated. The blonde wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. 

“Just don't think this means I'm suddenly going to fall in love with her,” he told her. 

“Now what makes you think I'd assume that?” The redhead said, walking past him in the direction of the stairs. 

“He went to visit the girl he cheated with, didn't he?” He said behind her. Something about Dr. Harmon’s behavior had seemed…off...in the days leading up to his departure - he had been more agitated, pacing more often, seeming to space out when he had patients. 

Moira turned and nodded. “Apparently she's pregnant.” 

Tate’s curiosity was piqued. “Wonder what he's going to do about that.” 

“We'll find out in a couple of days,” she answered. 

~

She felt like she had just fallen asleep when she faintly heard the sound of the doorbell ringing incessantly. At first Violet thought that she had imagined it, but the sound continued. The teen thought about ignoring it - it easily could be some idiots trying to scare the owners of the “Murder House”. However, as the sound continued, she knew she had to answer it if she wanted to get any sleep. 

Grumbling, she threw her legs over the side of the bed and stumbled to the door, suddenly thankful she’d left the lights on when her and Tate had went up to her room. 

She opened the door a crack and peered out. “Hello?” 

“He’s coming,” a woman said breathlessly, terror in her voice. “He’s going to stab me!” 

“Who?” 

“I don’t have time to explain! Let me in!” The stranger replied, pushing against the door to open it further. “What kind of woman are you? Can’t you see the blood on my face?” 

Instinct told the teen not to let this woman in - she couldn’t make out blood on the person’s face in the faint light spilling out from the door - and she decided to follow it. 

“I’m going to call the police.” Violet cursed that she’d left her cell phone upstairs - at least there was a phone in the kitchen she could use. “Just...wait here.” 

The dark blonde shut the door and all but ran for the kitchen, yanking the phone off the wall. She was about to press the last ‘1’ when something hit her in the back of head, hard. Everything went black. 

~

“This won’t work! We need two girls - the transcript was very clear!” 

Unfamiliar voices trickled into Violet’s consciousness as she slowly came to. 

“I didn’t realize she was the only one here! I was expecting him to have a wife,” a voice she recognized as belonging to the stranger from earlier hissed back. 

“We’ll have to make do with just her. We can go through with Gladys, and then we can do Maria,” a third voice answered. “I think she’s waking up.” 

A hand patted her cheek roughly until she opened her eyes. Standing around her in a semi-circle were three people clearly in their early twenties - one of whom she noticed was, in fact, the woman who had shown up at her door earlier. 

The lone guy in the group tossed something at her. Violet fumbled with it and discovered it was an old nurse’s uniform. What the fuck?! 

“Put that on,” the man ordered. 

“Like hell I am!” 

In response, the man pulled out a long, wicked looking knife from under his jacket. “You will - or I’ll force you to.” 

Self-preservation won out, and she was preparing to pull the uniform on over her clothes when the other woman cleared her throat. “Take your clothes off.” 

The teen dropped the uniform. “Hell no.”

“Everything has to be perfect! R. Franklin hated nurses - some sort of bad experience with mercury in a broken thermometer - and you have to become a nurse for this to work out!” The guy waved the knife for emphasis. 

“You’re psyhos,” she said, still refusing to pick up the fallen uniform. Her confusion over who the hell this R. Franklin fellow must have been obvious, because the woman who’d rung the doorbell earlier kneeled in front of her. 

“R. Franklin was the first. Before Manson,” she told the teen passionately. A fevered look had entered her eyes. 

“He changed the culture,” the other woman added. 

“We’re paying tribute to him,” the man finished. “Now: Put. The. Uniform. On.” He brought his knife close to her face as a warning of what would happen if she didn’t comply. 

Again, the survival instinct kicked in and she stripped, quickly pulling the uniform on. At least the two women had blocked her from the man’s view. 

“Upstairs,” one of the women ordered. She suddenly got an idea: she could make a run for it. Which is exactly what she did. 

~

After his conversation with Moira, Tate retreated to the basement, finding Adelaide was already down there. He knew immediately that the dinner must not have went well. Instead of rolling the ball with Beau like she usually did, his sister was standing in the middle of the basement. 

“What happened?” Funny how, even over a decade later, it was easy for him to step into the role of a caring brother. 

Addy shrugged. “We fought,” she responded. 

He remembered some of the fights they would have - it usually ended up with Constance belittling the younger woman in some way, usually over Addy’s wish to be a “pretty girl”. Though he was never a part of them, they never did anything to warm him up to the older blonde woman. Even if she was his mother. 

“How was the rest of the dinner? As torturous as it always is?” The blonde asked, changing the subject. He’d quickly learned that was the best thing to do after a fight between the two women.

“The guy is...nice.” His sister smiled slightly when she said that. “Way too young for her.”

“What’s new,” he muttered. He was sure Constance’s taste had just gotten younger the older she’d gotten. He took note of the look on his sister’s face when she talked about their mother’s latest boy toy. “Care to tell me more about this guy?”

Addy brightened considerably at that. Apparently the guy didn’t care that she has Downs, and treated her just like anyone else. As she went on, Tate felt a tiny smile cross his face. It was nice to see her so interested in someone - most people just gave her sympathetic or pitying looks when they met her. 

Though this guy was Constance’s new toy, Tate still silently vowed that if this man in anyway hurt Addy he’d make sure to lure the guy to the house and show him exactly what happened when someone messed with the people he cared about. 

The two siblings were interrupted by a faint thud from upstairs. A thud that sounded very much like a body hitting the ground. Immediately the blonde was on alert, motioning for Addy to stay in the basement before appearing upstairs, where he was greeted with the sight of three unfamiliar people dragging an unconscious Violet into the living room. He didn’t know what the people were doing in the house, but he could tell it wasn’t for good intentions. 

He phased back into the basement, Addy looking at him curiously. “Addy, I need you to go get Constance,” he told her carefully. “Tell her there are bad people in the house.” He was already planning on taking care of things, but as much as he hated it, he would need Constance’s help cleaning up afterward.

As soon as he saw his sister nod, he appeared upstairs in time to notice one of the strangers was brandishing a knife awfully close to Violet’s face. Normally, he wouldn’t care what happened to the inhabitants of the house - hell, he’d help take care of them a few occasions. He might not have stepped in even to fulfill his best chance at keeping his promise to Nora. But the feeling from earlier, when it had been just him and Violet upstairs...that feeling of possibly having a friend for once was what drove him to act. 

Tate waited for an opening, which came in the form of Violet making a break for it. Brave girl, he thought as he appeared in the kitchen just in time to grab her. As expected, she flailed, thinking he was one of the intruders. She knew how to fight, he found out as he felt a particularly sharp jab to his groin, followed by teeth sinking into his arm. 

The blonde was still able to gain the upper hand enough to spin her around, hand over her mouth to prevent her from giving away their location. She stopped struggling when she recognized him, and he dropped his hand. 

“Tate?” She breathed in confusion. “There are people - they’re trying to kill me -” she added in a rush, quickly remembering the situation she was in. 

“Lead them to the basement,” he told her. “I’ll take care of it.” 

For a moment, she looked like she was going to argue - remembering what had happened last time she let him “take care of things” in the basement - but reality crashed in, and the darker blonde nodded. 

~

Though she really wanted to know what Tate was doing sneaking into her house in the early hours of the morning - she knew he had left, or so she had assumed - Violet went along with his plan to lure the two women to the basement. How, she wasn’t sure yet. 

The answer came when she was standing in the tub. One of the women had rushed off, mention she felt sick all of the sudden, leaving the teen alone with the remaining woman. 

“This isn’t the original tub that was in here, you know,” she said as nonchalantly as she could. “We moved it down to the basement.” 

The woman gave her a look that said she clearly didn’t believe it. 

“Seriously. It was a clawfoot tub, right? This isn’t.” Violet gestured at the bottom of the tub. “You guys said everything has to be perfect - follow the script down to the letter, didn’t you? Wouldn’t that include using the original tub?” 

The desire to reenact the murder completely won against any bullshit the woman may have detected in the teen’s statement. 

“The basement it is,” she finally said, shutting off the water. Violet climbed out of the tub, careful not to slip on the tile. “Bianca, hurry up! We’re going to leave you behind if you don’t get down to the basement soon.” 

With that, the woman grabbed Violet by the arm and began dragging her to the basement. “You better not be messing with me,” she warned as they reached the last step in the basement. 

“It’s down here, around the corner,” she answered, pointing further into the basement. She had no idea what happened now; she only hoped Tate would do something soon before they both got killed. 

“Get out of here.” Violet jumped at the sound of Tate’s voice next to her ear. “Keep banging on the door until someone lets you in.” 

“What about you?” She asked. 

“I’ll be fine,” he responded. “Go,” he added with a slight shove. 

She turned and ran up the stairs and out the door, thankfully catching the man with the knife off guard so she was already out of the house when he gave chase. “Help!” She screamed as she ran towards the Langdon’s house. 

~

The police showed up within a few minutes. They weren’t able to catch any of the intruders, but clearly saw signs that they had been in the house. Violet gave her statement, answering all of their questions, feeling the adrenaline rush begin to wear off. Finally, they told her they had contacted her dad and that there was nothing else for them to do. They offered to let one of their officers stay with her until the older Harmon arrived, something she was sorely tempted to take them up on. In the end she declined. 

“We’ll patrol here and the surrounding streets for a bit, just in case,” one of them told her as they left. 

Walking inside the house, Violet made sure all of the doors and windows were locked, doing her best to avoid looking at the living room. She could smell bleach coming from the basement when she passed it on her way upstairs, and thought about making sure none of the psychos had come back… but exhaustion won out and she headed upstairs.


End file.
